Woman of the Wildfire
by sofiasaavedra
Summary: Modern AU. Aelin and Dorian go out clubbing on a night in Miami. Conveniently, so is Rowan. Let's see what happens when Rowan spots her on the dance floor, and is instantly enthralled by her. I just started this story, but I plan to update every Sunday. SMUT and language warnings. I hope you guys enjoy the story.
1. Chapter 1

"DORIAN!" Aelin busted down the door to her best friend's room. "We're going clubbing. Let's go, get dressed."

"Jesus, Aelin, don't you ever knock?" Dorian set his book down on the bed he was lying on to look at his roommate.

"It's Friday night, and I want to party. And you're not going to make me go by myself, so get dressed. We're leaving in thirty." Her voice was heard as she went back to her room to get ready.

Aelin set her hair free from the mess of a bun it was in and changed out of her pajama shorts and tank top. Now naked save for her panties, she stared at her closet deciding what to wear.

She ran her hand along the hangers of her luxurious outfits. But her hand stopped at the one she felt was right. She pulled it out and set it on her bed. Aelin had a wicked smile on her face as she stared down at the outfit she chose.

"Oh, I like you."

Rowan Whitethorn tossed his keys onto the table as he arrived at his apartment. Working eight hours under a car had drained him, and all he wanted to do was take a long shower and go to sleep. His friends however, seemed to have something else in mind for him when he heard his phone ring and saw Gavriel's contact appear on the screen.

He debated ignoring the call. It was the region of common sense in him that told him to do so. But Rowan loosed a sigh and answered it anyways. _I'm really going to regret this._

Rowan swiped his thumb across the screen. "Speak."

"Well, hello to you too, grouchy." Gavriel's voiced was slurred in the slightest. And he heard Lorcan, Fenrys, and Connall in the back. "Tell him that him that if he doesn't get his ass over here right now, we'll all beat the shit out of him." Lorcan's voice. Followed by continuous and rather enthusiastic agreements of Lorcan's claim.

"Fuck no. I'm tired and I want to sleep." Rowan wasn't lying.

"C'mon you old lady. We're all going to SHOTS."

He grumbled. "Another club? Why?"

"Because, Rowan, we're in our twenties, and we live in Miami. Hurry up and get ready. We'll be at your place in five." With that, Gavriel hung up the phone, leaving no room for debate.

So, the man strode off to the shower, while his friends were on the drive to his apartment.

"You think he'll come?" Connall quietly asked from where he sat in the back of the car, staring out the window.

It was Lorcan who answered, "He has to. It's been more than a year now that him and Lyria broke up. He can't stay in this rut forever."

Rowan stepped out of the shower with steam trailing him as he walked into his room and wrapped a towel around his waist. He pulled out a simple green T-shirt and black jeans. It seemed decent enough for a Miami club.

Soon enough his friends arrived, and they headed off.

Dorian sat at the bar with a drink in in his hand as he watched Aelin dance. He wondered if she was doing all this to get over Nehemiah's death. The car crash had hit her the worst, and by the time the ambulance got to the hospital, it was too late. Aelin was in the passenger's seat laughing with him and Nehemiah. It happened all so fast. One second, she was smiling even though they were all exhausted from their day at the beach, and the next…

Dorian didn't let himself finish the thought. It's been almost two years. Besides, they were supposed to be having fun, right? Then Dorian noticed a group of men walk into the club. They were all enormous and seemed to spend a fair amount of time at the gym. They all went to dance except for one man. A man with white hair, and forest green eyes walked over to the bar. And as he turned his head to look at his friends on the dance floor, Dorian noted the tattoo creeping up his neck and to the side of his face. He walked over to where Dorian was seated at the bar and ordered himself a beer.

Rowan turned around on his seat and leaned his back against the counter of the bar and tried to enjoy his drink over the blasting music. _Something about you_ by Majid Jordan was playing. Then he saw her. Her golden hair wild and loose. Her body swayed, and her arms gracefully moved above her head. Her red little tank top and matching pencil skirt that hugged her every curve was cut several inches above the knee. And she was barefoot. By the gods, she was stunning. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be completely lost in the music. As if she was in a trance. Rowan studied the silhouette of her body and when he looked back up to her face her eyes met his. His breath caught, and a sultry smile formed on her beautiful face as she noticed. She held his gaze as she mouthed the lyrics to the song. She continued to move her body even as she looked into his eyes.

"She's a wild one." Dorian said to Rowan, noticing his enthrallment.

"You know her."

Not exactly a question, but Dorian replied all the same. "She's my best friend, and my roommate. We've known each other since infancy."

"What's her name?" Rowan refused to break his gaze on her.

Dorian loosed a small chuckle. "Aelin,"

And as if he had summoned her, Aelin slowly made her way to Rowan, with a sway in her hips. As if she had all the time in the world.


	2. Chapter 2

Aelin had been dancing with flames in her soul. She didn't want to think about anything else other than the rhythm of the music. So, she had closed her eyes and forgotten about the rest of the world as she let it consume her, control her entirely. She had been aching to let her body roam free as the music willed it to. Aelin swayed her hips and raised her arms high above her head in time with the song.

She sang along with the lyrics until she peeped her eyes open, and noticed a man watching her. Not in a predatorial manner, but in utter admiration.

White hair, golden-brown skin, a tattoo creeping up the side of his glorious face, and forest-green eyes.

Her heart sank to her stomach, pounding at an astounding speed as he refused to break his stare. She stared right back. And she danced with beauty and with grace not for her own desire, but for him. She was now dancing for him— putting on a show for the man.

She gave Rowan a devil's smirk as she mouthed _There's something about you_ for him and lowered one of her arms to point a finger at him when the chorus to the song hit.

 _I'm ready if you want  
I'm ready to take you on  
I really got a feeling  
Now I'm starting to believe it _

_Something about you  
Ready for your love  
Soon as you call me up  
I really got a feeling  
Something about you is different_

Rowan's face flushed to the slightest shade of pink. And when she pointed that finger at him, directing him, he didn't know what else to do other than stare.

The way the light hit her face, that face of beauty that had eyes sparking with fire and burning embers— it made his heart race. He followed the silhouette of her shape while she moved and swayed.

But then she began to walk over to him when she noticed Dorian saying something to the him. And his heart stopped completely— panic began to settle in.

When Aelin reached them, she stood next to Dorian from where he was sitting next to Rowan and threw an arm around her best friend's shoulders.

Rowan's heart was racing a million miles an hour. She was standing right next to him.

"See something you like?" she said to him.

He realized he had just ben staring her. _I Should say something._ But he didn't know _what_ to say.

Aelin frowned and looked at her friend. "Dorian, what did you tell this man to make him so disinclined to talk?"

Rowan opened his mouth to speak while he reached out his hand. "My apologies, I'm Rowan."

"Aelin," she said as she took his hand. It was so large it swallowed hers entirely.

Their eyes locked, and _that_ is when Dorian made the wise decision to leave. "Oh look, there's a very attractive woman." He said as he left the bar and handed his drink to Aelin to make his way over to a woman whose white hair and golden eyes had caught his attention.

Now alone, Aelin and Rowan sat at the bar together.

Rowan's voice was deep and rich as he spoke. "Your friend, Dorian, tells me you're a wild one." His lips twitched upwards.

Aelin couldn't contain her grin. "Well, wouldn't you like to find out."

His eyes sparked with amusement. "I would, actually."

"Really?"

"Really."

With that, Aelin grabbed Rowan's hand and lead him to the dance floor.

Rowan's friends were enjoying their drinks at the bar when they spotted him being dragged to the dance floor by a very, _very_ attractive woman.

" _Is that Rowan? OUR ROWAN?"_ Fenrys shouted over the music.

Lorcan smirked. "Looks like it,"

"And he's with a _woman!"_ Gavriel pointed out.

Lorcan responded as he sipped his bear, "a really hot one too."

"About gods damned time. The women that he got with after Lyria were all awful." Fenrys said.

Gavriel smiled as he watched his friend dancing with the woman in red. "I have good feeling about this one, guys."

They all hoped he was right.

Once Dorian made his way to the woman he sought after, she turned around and gave him a once over. She was wearing skin tight black jeans that ripped across her thighs and knees with fishnet stockings under them. She wore a burgundy shirt, cropped at the middle that showed off her toned stomach and arms.

Her long white hair was braided back, her pale skin seemed to glow and her eyes…

Dorian was mesmerized by them. "Care for a dance?" He held out his hand for her taking.

Manon stared at his hand with cunning calculation. She looked up at his face and those sapphire eyes struck her stupid. Manon was never at a loss for words but now seemed to come pretty close. Until she said, "Well, aren't you a pretty, pretty boy?" Manon stepped closer to him. Enough that their chests were only a width of a hand away.

Dorian watched her with wild amusement in his eyes. "Call me Dorian."

"Dorian." She said his name with such interest and entertainment. "I am Manon."

"Well, Manon, can I offer you a drink?"

"I drink Vodka."

"Vodka? A bit strong isn't it?"

"What can I say—I'm a strong girl."

Dorian grinned. _Oh, I like this one._ "Vodka it is, then." And with that he walked to the bar and ordered her as she asked. While he waited for the bartender to bring her drink, Dorian found Aelin dancing around Rowan. She was drunk and silly. But Rowan's lips were set in a smirk as he moved with Aelin. By the gods, the man was enormous, and next to Aelin, she had to be at least an entire foot shorter than him.

Dorian watched Aelin raise her hands and rest them around Rowan's neck. The man settled his own hands on her swaying hips as Aelin moved and her long luxurious hair swooshed with her body.

Then Dorian heard the bartender approach and say, "Sir, your Vodka." Dorian bid his gratitude and strode to Manon. Her drink in his hand.

She reached for it— her fingers grazing over his. She took a sip from the glass with her eyes locked on his. Manon licked her lips at the vodka that had coated them, and Dorian's eyes flicked down to her mouth to track the movement.

Manon smirked, before she said, "So, princeling, your place or mine?"

Dorian almost chocked on his drink, but said, "Excuse me? And princeling?"

"Well, _Princeling,_ you obviously want to have sex with me, so your place or mine? I have to warn you, though," she gave him a wicked grin "my roommates and I are gifted when it comes to the art of witchcraft."

"Fine. I would be lying if I didn't say you intrigued me, but I wasn't expecting to have _sex_ with you, _witchling._ We just met." Dorian turned back to peer over at Aelin still dancing. "Besides, I'm driving tonight." He saw Rowan and Aelin's heads leaning against each other. And Rowan's hands move from her hips and very slowly slide up her sides to bring her arms above, holding them in the air with her hands in his. "However, that's a slight possibility." Dorian turned back his head to look at Manon again.

Manon had followed where his stare had been. "I take it she isn't your girlfriend?"

He laughed. "Her? Gods no. She's my best friend." He gave her a grin and a wink most women fell at their knees with. But Manon only stared at him— entertained. "You don't have to worry I'm single." For moment he thought back to Sorscha. Their breakup had been brutal and something he did not want to think about at the moment. Especially while he was talking to Manon.

"Well, I suppose that's good to know."

"You know what else might be good to know?"

"And what would that be, Princeling?"

"I would really love to take you out sometime." He smirked.

Manon raised an eyebrow at him. "Perhaps that can be arranged." She pulled out a pen and reached for his hand to write down her number.

Dorian stared at her in bewilderment as she held his hand. _Her skin_ — _it's so soft._

When she finished writing her number down on his hand, she gave him a sultry smile. "I'm leaving now, but I hope this isn't the last of our encounters."

Dorian smiled— genuine and intrigued. "Oh, I'll make sure it isn't, witchling."

Rowan and Aelin danced all night. It was two in the morning and they were still at it. Dorian waited at the bar half asleep. Until he was too tired and called out for Aelin, and she came over to him.

" _What is it?" She asked._

Dorian groaned. "I'm tired," He jerked his chin towards Rowan. "Are you going home with him or what?"

Aelin turned back to look at the hulking man that had gone to chat with his friends for a bit. "I'm not sure. I'm still deciding." She turned back in time to see the exhaustion, and the worry in Dorian's face, and she frowned. "But you can go home, I'll be alright."

"Alright, just be careful."

"I can handle myself, Dorian." She gave her friend a hug and kissed his cheek goodbye. "Text me when you get home." He only nodded and made his way towards the exit.

After Dorian left, Aelin found Rowan walking towards her. He stopped before her and asked, "Everything all right?"

"Yeah, everything's fine." Aelin looked up at Rowan and tried to read his character. He didn't seem like a serial killer or psychopath. "Can we get out of here?"

Rowan's features changed, and he began to panic. No no no— it was _too soon_ after Lyria. He wasn't ready for that especially with a woman he just met. Although, in her defense, Rowan was spectacularly intrigued by this woman. And though she might have been a stranger to him, he felt as if he'd been waiting to meet her.

Aelin seemed to read what was on his face and instantly reassured him she wasn't asking too…

She said, "I'm, sorry— that's not what I meant. I was just going to ask if we could go to the beach. I love to go at this time, and it's not far at all. We could walk since it's only five minutes from here—"

"Sure. The beach— that sounds nice." His voice was dry, his face was stone, and his eyes were distant. As if they were lost, no, trapped, in a memory from the past. She laid a steady hand on his forearm. Trying to lure him back to the present.

She was about to ask if he was okay, but she thought better of it. She thought back to when people would ask her that question, and through those three words _are you okay_ she was forced to reflect on herself. And realize that she was certainly _not_ okay. Somehow that always hit her harder than the feeling of not being okay to begin with. So, Aelin simply stroked her thumb across his arm in which she'd laid her hand on. A steady stroke to remind him where he was. To bring him back from wherever he had suddenly gotten lost in. Then she said, "Shall we go?"

He shook his head. Dismissing the remnants of the memories that had haunted him. "Right, the beach, yeah." He laid a shaky hand on the small of her back, guiding Aelin out of the club and to his car.

Lorcan, Fenrys, And Gavriel all watched Rowan intently as he left the club with the woman they had seen him with. They studied him like animals studied their prey. And when Rowan took the final step out of the club, his hand still on the woman's back, they burst into a fit of celebrational roars and shouts. In praise of their friend that seemed was doing a great job so far.

Gavriel looked at the entry to the club, as if he could all the way to where Rowan had left. "Guy's, I think our man finally found a good one."

The rest of the guys just stared with worry, yet anticipation of what could be something Rowan has been in desperate need of.


	3. Chapter 3

After Rowan left the bar him and Aelin began their walk to the beach.

He was distant and quiet. Something Aelin immediately noticed and wanted to smack herself for ever asking him to come in the first place. Rowan walked beside her and was sure to watch out for any threats. Another thing Aelin took note of.

Aelin said, "You know If anything were to happen I can handle myself more than well enough."

He grumbled. Yet he was intrigued by the remark. "What do you mean by that?"

"It means simply that. I can handle myself." They turned a corner and the beach was already within sight.

Rowan was _really_ intrigued now. "How so?"

Aelin raised a brow at him and said, "Wanna find out?" They approached the sand and Rowan stopped for a moment to take off his shoes and leave them on the sand and roll up the edges of his jeans.

He positioned his legs at twelve and five with his hands raised. "Show me what you got."

"Are you sure?"

He scoffed "Of course." What's the worse that would happen?

"Alright, don't hold back on me."

Rowan smirked. "I wouldn't dare."

Aelin knew she wouldn't be at her best with the skirt she was in that wrapped her every curve, but she could kick ass even if she didn't have any arms. Arobynn, her master at the orphanage she was raised in, taught her as much.

She positioned herself and raised her hands. She would use quick swift motions that granted her fluidity and motions that wouldn't require heavy steps. So, when Rowan went for the first punch to her abdomen, Aelin swiftly side stepped and twisted to punch his jaw. Twice. The third he ducked when he tried to land an upper cut she side stepped again and kicked his stomach.

He stepped back dumbfound.

She wasted no time in kicking his shins, and Rowan tripped and fell to the ground.

He looked up at her from the floor in a daze. _How is she so fast?_

Aelin stared at him from the floor and smirked. "I thought you would put up more of a fight." She chuckled.

"I've been out of practice." Since him and Lyria broke up.

"Right."

Rowan stood from the ground and wiped off sand from his back side. "How did you learn to fight like that?"

"I was taught"

They started they're patient stroll through the beach. "When? By who?"

Aelin took in a breath. And slowly released it before she said, "When I was eight I started living at an orphanage. The headmaster, Arobynn Hamel, trained me. He had me compete in street fights where he would bet on me. And Arobynn isn't one that particularly likes to lose so he made sure to train me thoroughly and extensively." She chuckled maliciously. "I made him a lot of money."

Rowan had anger rising up from within him. And so many questions from one reply. But, he barely knew this woman. Although this Arobynn did deserve to get punched in the face regardless. To put a _child_ through such things. An orphan. She had been an orphan. He shook his head. Now wasn't the time and Aelin certainly didn't seem like this was her favorite subject to talk about. So, he said, "So, what do you do now?"

She looked at him with a devious smirk. "I'm an assassin."

Rowan halted, and his eyes went wide. But Aelin laughed and said "I'm kidding, you fool. I have a lot of jobs." They again, began walking on the shallow shores of the water. The folded edges of Rowan's jeans had gotten a bit wet from the waves, and it showed as much.

"Such as?"

"Mainly I do psychology. I teach martial arts sometimes, conduct piano lessons, shortly after I left the orphanage I used to fight at bars. Although I don't anymore."

"The piano?" Rowan had never learned how to lay any instrument.

"Mhm. Arobynn had me learn. He wanted me to have a skill set beyond the destructive sort."

"Do you enjoy it? Everything he taught you?"

Aelin stopped. "What?" No one had ever asked her this question. Never thought of asking how _she_ felt about everything she was shoved into.

Rowan casually bent down to pick up a sea shell that had snagged his attention "You know are you grateful for the things he taught you? Did it make you happy leaning such skills?" The shell was an amethyst purple. He chucked it into the water before turning his head to look at Aelin.

A wind set her hair billowing to one side. And she stared into nothing for a few long seconds until she said, "I—I don't know. No one has ever asked me before." Her gaze veered into his green eyes. "I suppose I am grateful. Without him, without all the things he did to me I never would have become the woman I am today. But…" They resumed their walking along the shore. "I do want to rip his throat out all the same. And, yes. I'm glad I can play piano. At least I have one talent that has me actually create rather destroy."

Rowan smiled a bit. A _genuine_ smile _,_ gentle and light. One he hadn't felt in a very, _very_ long time. "I want to hear you play one day."

"Is that a promise?"

Rowan smirked. "You tell me."

"I think you'd have to ask me out on a proper date first, Rowan."

He chuckled. "Very well. Aelin," Rowan stopped and turned to look at her fully. "Would like to go out with me this…" His eyes looked up as he thought of a good time.

"Sunday," Aelin finished for him

"Sunday?" She nodded in confirmation. "Very well. Sunday at 6."

Aelin grinned at him and they continued walking. Thus, began a conversation that lasted almost the entirety of the night. They spoke of their aspirations and dreams and pressures. They spoke easily, and Rowan was scared to admit how lured he was by this woman.

Rowan walked her all the way home and when he bid her goodnight at her doorstep, he felt more content with himself than he had in months.


	4. Chapter 4

Manon ducked as her grandmother threw a plate aimed straight for her face. She crouched on the floor against the wall with her arms covering her head between her knees. The plate shattered against the wall and its remnants rained atop Manon from where she was squatted. She stood quickly in one powerful movement with her shoulders squared and her chin up.

Her grandmother was seething. Manon thought she looked like a wild beast with her nostrils flared, her chest rising and falling from heavy pants and her scruff black hair let loose, disheveled. "WHY DID YOU DO IT?"

Manon has learned patience like never before thanks to her grandmother. "Abuela, I have _no idea_ what your talking about."

"THAT CLIENT YOU HAD LAST WEEK! HE OFFERED US FIVE THOUSAND AND YOU TURNED HIM DOWN!"

Manon vividly remembered that _client_. Him in all his grotesque glory.

Manon saw her grandmother reach for a small, but very thin very _sharp_ knife on the table between the two of them. "Do you know what that could have done for us? FOR YOUR SISTERS?" And with all her possible strength, Manon's grandmother flung the knife across the table.

Manon watched the knife fly across the table. As if it was happening in slow motion. The knife found its mark from where it was lodged in her upper arm, right beneath her shoulder. She barely felt the pain— had grown a tolerance for such things over the years. But she did feel the stream of blood going down her arm. With her eyes set on her grandmother she yanked the knife out and struck it into the wood of the table. It stood with the handle wobbling in the air from the throwback of Manon's force.

Manon pointed a finger at her grandmother and said, "I have _limits,_ Abuela. They only go so far." With that, Manon left the residence, slamming the door shut.

* * *

Dorian stared at the number written on a sticky note that lied on his desk. He was subconsciously tapping his foot against the floor in a most persistent manner.

Which is what made Aelin storm into Dorian's room and say, "Jesus, Dorian, would you _quit it_!" She approached him and stood at his side. And when she saw the set of digits Dorian's unbreaking gaze was set on, she let out a long "ohhh," of realization. "So, you got that girls number. The one from the other night at SHOTS, with the white hair."

Dorian knew it wasn't exactly a question, but he gave a barely imperceptible nod. Finally, he looked up to face his friend. "Do you think It's time I call? It was two nights ago."

Aelin reach out to the desk and picked up the sticky note. She stared at it for a second, then said, "Sure. Giver her a call." She looked back up at Dorian and flashed her teeth in a wicked smile. "Let's see where this goes."

"But, what do I say?"

"C'mon, Dorian, you know how to talk to women. You used to have a different girl here every week." Before Sorscha is what she didn't need to say. "Ask her out for lunch."

"Yeah, Okay, I'm just gonna do it." Dorian plucked the note from Aelin's hand and dialed the numbers into his phone.

Aelin sat down on his bed to watch him pace as he held the device up to his ear. _Its ringing_ , he mouthed at her. She only nodded in patience.

Then after a few moments— "Hey," Dorian said as smoothly as he could. "How are you?"

* * *

Manon ran through her apartment holding the phone up with her shoulder pressed to her face as she rummaged through a cabinet looking for bandages. "Um, I'm fine. I guess." She haphazardly pulled out a box of gauze pads and medical tape. Blood was dripping at her elbow, leaving splashes of crimson on her hardwood floors. _Now isn't the best of times, princeling._

* * *

"Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to grab lunch later today?" Dorian watched his feet toy with the fluffy material of his carpet which he steadily paced on.

* * *

Sure, pick me up in an hour." Manon said as she wrapped the gauze around her wound and secured it with medical tape. Only to have blood seep right through and trail down her arm again. "Maybe a little more than that."

* * *

Dorian turned to face Aelin to discretely give her a thumbs up. She only nodded along in approval. With that she winked at him and left to her room. Her date with Rowan was tonight and she planned to spend the entire rest of the day to herself doing face masks, her nails, her eyebrows, all sorts of grooming. She had originally planned for Dorian to join her, but she supposed he had other plans now. So, Aelin strode to her room and thus, prepared her awaiting evening date with Rowan Whitethorn.


	5. Chapter 5

Rowan held on tightly to Lyra's hand as she pushed and pushed and pushed. She was screaming and crying, and Rowan had been trying to convince himself that they would get through this. He told himself that he wouldn't let the miscarriage of his now deceased child tear a rift through him and Lyra. But with Lyra lying on the bed, pushing out a dead child, _their_ dead child, he wasn't so sure of that.

Lyra was coated in sweat and tears, brown hair clinging to the slickness on her face. She sobbed, "Rowan, I can't. I can't do this anymore."

He brushed some hair off from her face and said, "I know, I'm so, so, sorry, my love, but he has to come out."

The doctors looked at the couple sympathetically from where they sat at the end of the table in front of Lyra's open legs. "I'm sorry but we need her to push."

Lyra sobbed even more and squeezed Rowan's hand hard enough that any normal person would have yelped in pain. But Rowan only squeezed right back.

Lyra screamed as she felt her entire body was being torn in two. She screamed as pushed pushed pushed out the child that was meant to make Rowan and a her a family. It was supposed to bring him and her closer together, not tear them apart. Lyra let out a final cry until—

Rowan jolted awake, sweating, panting. Gods, what time was it? He looked at the clock next to his bed that read _4:41 AM._ He stood, groaning, and trudged to the bathroom to relieve himself. After splashing his face and neck with cold water, trying to forget about the horrors haunting him in his sleep, he made his way back to his bed. Only to lie on his back and stare at the ceiling.

Lyra's crying was still freshly ringing in his head. But its been more than a year now. They went their separate ways after the miscarriage and maybe that's what was best—for the both of them. Maybe it simply wasn't meant to be and that was the Gods way of telling him so.

He shook his head, dismissing the thoughts and turned to lie on his side with his arm cushioning his head. He had a date today for crying out loud. Lyra was a part of the past and Rowan needed to move on. _It's over, Rowan. It's over, so let it go._ Sleep tugged at him and Rowan obliged to his body's command to close his eyes.

When he woke up, he didn't remember dreaming of anything for the remainder of the night.

* * *

"AELIN!" Dorian called out as he ran around his room. He was to see Manon in no less than fifteen minutes. But in order to do that, he need his keys. He rummaged through his countertop and drawers as he yelled again, "Have you seen my car keys?"

"No!" Aelin shouted from their living room where she sat in front of the TV, which she watched intently as she filed her nails. Her enormous dog, Fleetfoot, was laying down at her side. resting her head on Aelin's thigh. An avocado mask was spread on her face and her hair in a messy bun. She was set in only a very large t-shirt. Then Aelin heard Dorian let out a colorful string of curses and at that she stood to possibly help the man.

She walked to his room and stood at his door, leaning against the frame. "Dorian, when did you get home the other night?"

"Around two."

Aelin pointed in her opposite direction, "Go to the bathroom and check in the cabinet mirror."

Dorian's groomed eyebrows knotted together. "The bathroom?" And though he obviously found Aelin's suggestion ridiculous, he made his way the bathroom anyway.

A few seconds later, Aelin heard Dorian from where she was still leaned against his door frame. "Found them!" And Aelin smirked. Dorian was still walking back to his room when he said, "How did you know they would be there?"

"You always leave them there when you're exhausted and get home really late." She patted his chest and said, "Try to remember that for next time." With that she walked back to her living room where she was watching Mulan. Once seated she took a not so little sip from her wine and popped a potato chip in her mouth. Aelin sighed contently as she watched Mulan battle the Huns and strategically ensured her country's victory.

Then Dorian came out of his room wearing jeans and a navy short sleeved button-down shirt that showed off his toned arms and muscular chest. Stuffing his keys and wallet into his pocket, Dorian heard Aelin whistle at him. He bent down to where his friend was sprawled on the floor, and with her eyes glued to the TV he gave her a kiss on the cheek in farewell. He ruffled Fleetfoot's head as well before he headed for the door. Then he heard Aelin shout at him, "Be safe!"

"Yes, Aelin."

"Text me when you get there!"

"Yes, Aelin."

"Don't forget your turn signal!"

"I'm not a child, Aelin."

"What the fuck? Don't you talk to me like that!"

He was almost out the door now. "I'm sorry!"

Her voice grew louder the closer he got to the door. "YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL— I LOVE YOU!"

"I LOVE YOU TOO!" Dorian shouted right before he shut his apartment door behind him. He let out a chuckle at his friend's antics. Aelin had always been one to love her friends tremendously. And though her way of showing her love wasn't always ideal, deep down she just wanted Dorian to be safe.

He drove down to a small café near a book store, his favorite one in the city. And once he arrived, after sending Aelin a text message confirming he did as much, he sat at a booth near a window. He was early, and the café was fairly empty, so Dorian gazed out the window. The day was pretty gloomy, the pewter sky blocking any chances of sunshine. But Dorian always preferred weather like this. He found it to be cozy, comforting. Then he heard a bell ring and he turned his head towards the door.

There stood Manon in a red long sleeve shirt and dark shorts that exposed the glorious length of her toned legs. He hair appeared to be a bit unkept, but Dorian didn't care.

Once she was seated across him, he leaned in to kiss her cheek and said, "Hi."

"Hi." Her eyes were colder than when he'd last seen them, more distant.

"How are you?" Dorian wrapped his hand around her upper arm, beneath her shoulder and she hissed, wincing as her body instinctively jolted away from the pain. Dorian noticed it and realized she was hurt. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Nothing," she snapped. But Dorian felt the bandage around her arm where he had touched her. He knew it wasn't any of his business, so he didn't insist on any further information. And he didn't want to make Manon uncomfortable.

So, he approached a potential conversation another way. He said, "Would you like something to drink?"

She turned to face him from where she was staring out the window. Dorian sensed her tensed aura and willed his voiced to be kept steady and gentle. For a few long seconds Manon only stared into his eyes, her brows inclined towards each other ever so slightly. Then she said at last, "Yes, some coffee?"

"Alright, I'll be right back." Dorian slid out of the booth and a minute later he came back with two coffees in his hand. Once seated back in his spot Dorian quietly sipped his drink. He looked up to find Manon staring out the window. Watching a little girl wearing a pink bow. She was holding her mother's hand while they waited for cars to pass so they could cross the street. The mother's head turned left then right before she squeezed her daughter's hand.

"Come now, Evangeline." Said the mother. They hurried along the street and Evangeline looked up at her mother. And she smiled. Not to her mother but to herself.

Once they both made it across the street Manon tore her gaze away from the window. She stared at her coffee lost in thought. Dorian wasn't sure if he should say something or not. She obviously didn't want to talk about what was troubling her, so he didn't ask. He continued sipping his coffee quietly and waited a bit for Manon to collect her thoughts.

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Dorian decided to say something. Nothing that would make her uncomfortable just something irrelevant. Something to relax her. He said, "Did you know a patient of mine the other day stapled his own finger? Deliberately."

At this she finally looked up from staring at her coffee. "He stapled his own finger?"

Dorian couldn't contain the chuckle that escaped him. "The kid said he wanted to see what it felt like."

The ends of Manon's lips twitched upwards. "And?"

"He got his answer, didn't he?"

They both laughed at that. Until Manon spoke again. "You have patients?"

Dorian said, "I do." And to answer the question in Manon's eyes he added, "I'm a pediatrician."

Manon finally picked up her coffee and took sip before she said, "Where do you work?"

"Oh no, I have my own practice."

Manon's eyebrows raised. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-six,"

"Aren't you a bit young to have your own practice?"

Dorian let out a low chuckle. "Not a bit, _very_ young. But I finished school when I was fifteen, I finished my studies in seven years and spent two more working and saving up to open my practice."

Manon sat back and stared at him. "Hmm, I have to say that's quite impressive, Princeling."

Dorian only grinned at her. "So, what do you do?"

* * *

Aelin stared at her closet while her hair was wrapped up in a towel. Fleetfoot was sprawled on his bed as Aelin tapped her chin and said, "What shall it be Fleetfoot?" She pulled out various dresses, blouses, sweaters, until she heard the door open and close. "Dorian?" She called out attentively.

"It's me!" He yelled back. He walked to Aelin's room and sat on the floor next to Fleetfoot who greeted him by an enthusiastic jump on top of Dorian.

"I wasn't expecting you home so early. How was the date?" Said, Aelin.

"It went… a lot better than I expected." He smiled to himself before he shook his head and said, "What do you mean early it's five and it was a lunch date."

"Exactly. A date is a date regardless what kind." Aelin continued looking through her closet for the perfect ensemble. "I need you to help me decide what to wear." She said as she studied her top four options.

"How much time do we have?"

"It's at six,"

Dorian got up from the floor to stand next to Aelin. They both stared at the items of clothing on her bed. Then he said, "You've narrowed it down to these four?"

"Mhm,"

"Okay, try each one on and we'll decide."

Thus, Aelin spent some time showing Dorian each one. And after twenty minutes of extensive arguing they both agreed on an entirely laced, royal blue shirt, that showed off her generous curves and black jeans. The front of her hair was loosely pulled back, while the rest was let loose and when she twirled in front of Dorian with her arms splayed he let out a low whistle.

Aelin grabbed her purse and headed for the door after petting Fleetfoot goodbye and giving Dorian a kiss on the cheek. "Give him hell, Galathynius!" Dorian yelled as she left.

"I always do!" She shouted back before she shut the door.

Aelin walked downstairs and waited for Rowan to arrive in front of her apartment building. And no less than a minute later did Rowan pull up in a 2012 BMW 335I. He stepped out of the car and walked over to Aelin and kissed her cheek. Then he said, "Hi."

Aelin smirked. "Hello, Rowan."

He took a moment to look at Aelin from head to toe and he couldn't contain his grin. "You look stunning."

She only looked at him as if to say _I know I do._ Then she inspected him as well and took in how handsome he looked. His hair looked cleanly cut and fresh. He wore a grey shirt that revealed his spectacularly built torso and black blazer with jeans. She looked back up at his face and said, "You are not too bad yourself."

He grinned. "Shall we?" He said and gestured to the direction of his car. She only nodded and as they walked to his car, Rowan held the door open for her and closed it once she was inside. He walked over to the driver's seat and started up the car.

Aelin observed his car while she said, "So, where are we going?"

Rowan checked his mirrors and before he turned to face Aelin. He smile as he said, "Do you like Cuban food?"

"I love it."

"Good. Because I am taking you, Aelin, to Latin America."

They drove down the streets of Miami listening to soft Spanish music before they arrived, and Rowan parked. But he didn't get out of the car even though they had already arrived, but a song was still playing.

Aelin was about to open the door to step out of the car when Rowan stopped her and grabbed her hand. She looked at the hand gripping her, then to his face. It was softer than it had been moments ago. He turned to face to her and said, "I like to let the song finish."

She nodded and sat back in her seat. The song was a soft melody with delicate notes and the singer had a voice smoother than silk. Aelin closed her eyes and let the lyrics sink in.

Ventana blanca  
Hay que venga la mañana  
Hay que venga otra vez  
Esperando  
Asi es como yo paso mi tiempo  
Esperando a Inaniel  
Y rezando  
Por su calor, por su aliento  
Sobre mi piel…

Aelin hummed contently. "I like that music."

Rowan chuckled and said, "So do I. I'm glad you enjoyed it." He stepped out of the car to open the door for Aelin. They walked to the main entry and right as Rowan was about to open his mouth to ask for a table for two a shrieking voice cut through the air.

"Aelin?" A woman abruptly stood from a table near a window. A beautiful woman with brown hair and green eyes. Rowan found Aelin frozen, her eyes stone cold and flat. He went to reach for her, but the woman's voice sounded again. "Aelin!"

Aelin slowly turned towards the direction of the woman's voice before she mumble in misery, "Lysandra."


End file.
